


Fear Not The Dark

by reachingforthestardust



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Blood, Come Cry With Me, Gen, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Oops?, This is a dark fic, it just did, it wasn't meant to end like this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 18:57:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7519526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reachingforthestardust/pseuds/reachingforthestardust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Looking back on her day, Emily suspected that when she’d looked out of her window that morning, she should’ve known the type of day that was fated. The weather spoke of death, and her, and her team’s job, was death incarnate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fear Not The Dark

**American author Norman Maclean said ‘at sunrise everything is luminous but not clear.’**

 

_11:32pm Monday_

 

Looking back on her day, Emily suspected that when she’d looked out of her window that morning, she should’ve known the type of day that was fated. The weather spoke of death, and her, and her team’s job, was death incarnate.

 

_9:17am Thursday_

 

The day that dawned was not a happy one. The wind was restless, the sky morose and the rain incessant. The perfect day to dump a body, apparently, as JJ walked into the bullpen vaguely brandishing a casefile and calling ‘briefing room’ before disappearing in a blur of determination. Spencer sighed over his coffee before heaving himself out of his chair, a strange sight for someone so slight, and Morgan ruffled his hair.

‘Long night, kid?’ He asked and Spencer pouted, refusing to answer. Walking up behind the pair Emily smirked quietly, sharing a knowing look with Morgan that served to deepen Spencer’s pout.

‘Ha-ha,’ said Spencer, stalking gracefully towards the briefing room. ‘Laugh all you want, but I’ll have you know that Star Trek is a wonderful show.’ Emily and Morgan cracked identical grins, and the young genius’ statement might have had a bigger impact had he not tripped over absolutely nothing only to be caught by a bemused Rossi.

‘I don’t want to know,’ he remarked drily, and Spencer blushed, scurrying to his chair and hiding behind his satchel.

 

_9:32pm Monday_

 

There was blood on the floor. Not much compared to some of the crime scenes she’d witnessed, but _god_. There was so much, right here, right now. But what hurt most was that it wasn’t her blood - it was Reid’s. And Reid, so thin, so gangly, didn’t have that much blood to begin with, no matter what statistics he’d spout at her about the average volume of blood in the average male and _god_ what was she doing just standing here? He would hate the mess. The mess. She had to clean up the mess. What was it he said? Male suicides are more likely to leave a mess. She had to clean up the mess.

 

That was how Derek found her, as she scrubbed uselessly at the sticky blood on the bathroom tiles, silent tears on her face. Emily looked up at the dark, handsome man. ‘I have to clean up the mess,’ she said, ‘he would hate it.’

 

**‘It seems there is more interest in sunsets than sunrises. Perhaps because innately we fear the dark.’ -Richelle E Goodrich**

 

**Author's Note:**

> i am so sorry


End file.
